a playlist of their own
by dead hours
Summary: he wants to fly. or, at the very least, get as close as possible.-— a collection in the modern world. for the fanfiction imagination winter exchange.


**a collection.**

* * *

**motorcycles.**

Jason Grace wants to learn. He wants to learn how to ride a motorcycle; he wants to _fly_. Or, at the very least, get as close as possible.

His sister knows— his older, taller, more responsible sister— and when she gets that Jason still doesn't know anything about it, she teases. "Shut up," Jason says, but he isn't that indignant because, hey, he only has Thalia right now.

"Thalia, teach me." He sounds helpless in his head.

She smirks. "_Teach you_, eh?"

Jason hits her, rather lightly, and maybe he fakes a cough too loudly.

His sister chuckles and laughs, saying, "Okay, I'll teach you."

Jason smiles. It doesn't last long though, because later he'll fall off the motorcycle, fuck himself up. But it's alright; his sister is there to help him up and keep him from plummeting again.

* * *

**requiem.**

His mother dies on a Tuesday. She died in a dank room in a tight house, blinking out the low window to see the crystalline river. She died because someone in the garage forgot to turn of the kerosene lamps, nobody knows who.

Leo thinks that his relatives are idiots.

They're idiots because they didn't go through the wringer. It was too peachy keen for them while his mother _suffered_ in a way she shouldn't have, while they proclaimed the tragedy of her youth— and he tries to tell himself it's not his fault every day. Esperanza Valdez deserved a heavenly afterlife, although he never believed in such a damn fool idea.

The requiem soars and wrings through the air like his mother's voice would if she were here. But it's sad and his dearest mum never sang with such great sorrow.

* * *

**liar, liar.**

"Our parents will come," Bianca said. He'd ask her again, make her promise, pinky promise, that he'd see them again. And she always would.

Then she'd fall asleep, and he'd dig in his backpack for his iPod and earphones.

Might have to sell them someday, so he creates playlists and taps his fingers on his jean-clad knees anytime he can. He likes the beat, the rhythm, the lyrics, and especially the solace.

A solace of melody in the solace of the young kid who never had a mom or dad, who dreams of his parents and his happiest state and a life where he can breathe better along with everyone he had ever loved. Especially with his big sister.

The world was brighter with playlists— now he knows his sister is a liar, a rotten liar. But he knows she only did it to keep him happy, and he thinks that's okay.

* * *

**fallen.**

With clandestine movements and jerky ones, he bumps into the wall, knocks over the stool, leans into the backpack-then-wall. It's hard to breathe, with his lungs closing on him and his heart hammering. His eyes almost roll back, and later he spews his supper on his history essay. Maybe he's a smartass, but he's not sure he deserved this one.

Tired, so tired. So, so bloody.

It's the stars that kick him in the dark. They're glowing, sparkling, shining, kind, and yet they twinkle so far away. They taunt like the assholes who, drunk, kick his ass every fucking weekend and they pull on his hair, sirens luring him in with their songs, singing, "Come, come, come."

Devilish screams at night roll into a playlist of their own; Ethan hurts because he can't keep his fucking mouth shut— guess he can't do anything about it.

* * *

**of monsters and me.**

The first time it happens, he isn't surprised.

But it surprises Reyna, more than finding him here, more than the fact that he actually _likes_ this, that he's accepted the job and is making the best of it. It's the fact that Jason — not the forthright do-gooder she remembers but the quiet man he is now — doesn't try to cheer her up the way he used to talk to Piper, doesn't flush at the sight of her in nothing but a tank top and shorts and stammer some excuse, he just goes over to the coffeepot and starts up a fresh batch without even asking why she's up at three in the morning.

It's a long time before Reyna realizes he never needed to ask.


End file.
